Content
by Azar443
Summary: I have made the right choice, and I am content.


**Author's Note: This fic isn't really romance. I mean, it focuses mostly on the Lucian relationship (though be warned, it isn't very happy), but it explores Lucy's feelings too; at growing up, at loving Caspian and relinquishing him to Liliandil. You get a little glimpse of the Golden Age too, through her eyes. It's entirely in Lucy's POV, and I hope that it is all right. So dear readers, read, review and enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Chronicles of Narnia nor any character you may recognize. They belong to C. S. Lewis.**

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I sat down quietly in the seat that Edmund steered me to. Taking a glance at the massive stone table, I was met by a barrage of wonderful food covering every available inch of the table surface. Goose, pheasant, colourfully arranged vegetables, fruits and cakes of nearly every kind sat there temptingly, and the hungry crew of the Dawn Treader had no qualms of tucking into the delicious meal that was before them.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Caspian gallantly leading the beautiful Star to sit by his left, next to me. My heart clenched painfully and unconsciously my grip on my tunic tightened. I wondered how was it, how did it feel to be so beautiful, so perfect.

Clapping his hands together, Caspian shouted joyfully for everyone to start enjoying the feast, though of course most of the men (and Minotaur, mouse and dragon of course) had already started without him. I daresay he didn't notice it though, he was too busy ogling at the star and showering her with attention that I almost felt nauseous just seeing them together.

Shooting a tentative smile at Edmund, I took a little bite of the fish on my plate. Grimacing slightly, I put down my fork, not wanting to continue the meal. I grinned, seeing Edmund stop eating as well as he pulled a face at me. It wasn't as if the food was bad though, in fact it was the most wonderful thing that I had ever tasted. But it was just too perfect. Strange as it seemed, Edmund and I had grown rather fond of the always burnt food that Zorle, the cook on deck made that was oftentimes too salty or sweet. But it was familiar, and it seemed a little like home. Old Narnia, I mean.

We had a cook once, us Pevensies when we were Kings and Queens. A dear little old Beaver by the name of Marla who was so sweet and just wonderful it didn't matter that the food she cooked were sometimes a little raw, especially the fish. Peter always paled when fish was served for dinner, and he'd sneakily pass it to Synd, his Leopard guard who'd snap it up in one go. Dear old Marla, I missed her so.

Not wanting to seem impolite, I pushed my food around, playing with it. It was a little trick that Susan had shown me. She used it often, especially when the food was horrible or just looked plain strange, as usually was the case with Calormen food. Pretending I didn't see Edmund give his entire plate to Eustace who snapped it up in his great dragon jaws, I tried valiantly to make polite conversation with Reepicheep, even though I was bored out of my mind. But honestly, my heart wasn't in it and as the topics dwindled and trailed off, Reepicheep turned to speak instead to Drinian, leaving me to my thoughts once more.

Sneaking a glance at Caspian, I couldn't help but be saddened at the adoring gazes he directed towards the Star, warm brown eyes gleaming with something I saw in my own eyes every day I gazed at him. They seemed so at ease with each other, despite the fact that they had just met. _That's what happens when you're meant for each other, little Queen, _a hissing voice sounded in the back of my mind, taunting me, mocking me. _You're just a child, little Lucy, what could a King possibly want with a little girl like you when he can have someone like her?_ Shaking my head, I tried to deny that ruthless voice. _No, shut up, shut up!_

'Lucy?' My eyes snapped open. Everyone was staring at me, concern written all over their faces. I was confused, why were they staring? 'Lucy, are you all right?' I was faintly aware that it was Caspian who spoke, but it didn't seem important at all. All that mattered then was that I needed to get out of there; _now._

Scrapping my chair back, I muttered a quick 'Excuse me' and walked out as quickly as I could without running, ignoring the buzzing of voices calling me back. Why was everyone talking? I didn't understand_. Why did they keep calling me_?

Once I was out of view from everyone however, I flew down the cracked stairs and onto the beach. I ran, not caring where I was, just as long as that irksome voice was gone. The soft sand tickled my bare feet as I ran and the moon followed me, appearing now and then from the dark clouds she had been hiding behind.

My side hurt as my breath grew shorter. I was aware of the sweat that rolled of my back and soaked the warm woolen tunic that I wore. Still I ran until at last, I collapsed in front of a little cove, with the warm sea water lapping at my bare feet, soothing the blisters that now adorned my feet as I panted and tried to catch my breath. I was exhausted, but at least I wasn't being stifled by perfection and that horrid, horrid voice dripping poison into my aching head.

I felt the cold fingers of the wind creep up on my arms, face and legs. It would be too cold to be outside soon, but I wanted to stay out here for a little while longer. I certainly didn't feel calm enough to go back and face everyone. I wasn't ready to be herded back into that golden, gilded cage of perfection.

Savouring what were a few precious moments of peace and quiet by myself before someone would find me here; I stretched back into the sand languidly, not caring if my hair was caught in wet sand or that my clothes would probably be damp all through. Feeling somewhat calmed by the gentle slushing of the waves as it hit the sand; I closed my eyes, smiling. This really was much better than being beautiful and ethereal with not a hair out of place or with legions of men bowing down before my beauty. At least I was happier this way.

My smile abruptly melted into a frown. I _was _happier, but I didn't have Caspian. I honestly hadn't thought that it would hurt so, to see someone you like –I daren't use the word _love_- _prefer _someone over you. Granted, I never told him how I felt; how _was _he supposed to know? But even if I had told him, wouldn't he just see me as Queen Lucy the Valiant? Queen of Old Narnia who honoured him by choosing him as her consort? He wouldn't have seen me as Lucy, just a girl who was growing up and finding love and losing it at once.

Idly playing with the damp tresses of my honey golden hair, I dreamily recalled the images of us spending time together on the Dawn Treader; playing chess, sparring, looking out at the familiar constellations of Narnia that lit up the dark skies at night; just us two. I smiled, remembering our sparring sessions; the clash of our blades as we parried and thrust and blocked each other, so in tune were we to the other's movements that Reep often said that we looked like we were dancing. And I suppose we were. I never was a 'girly-girl' as Susan was. I do dance, but rarely did I participate in those elegant dances where partners slowly and gracefully twirled around each other, bowing and turning as they completed the deliberate movements. I was a wonderful dancer when I danced the wild, free dances of Narnia and her people. It was pure joy, dancing in the middle of yellowing and falling leaves in autumn with the Forest inhabitants, or just a silly dance with my brothers and sister in the privacy of our rooms. I couldn't ever have confined myself to the precise, masked steps of a 'proper' court dance. I would have been bored out of my mind.

Sighing, I stood up, preparing to leave. Tilting my head, I stared up into the pearly face of the moon glinting down at me. I loved the moon. It was the one constant between Earth and Narnia and at night, back in England, I'd always gaze at the moon, hoping to catch a glimpse of my former life in Narnia; in _home._ Absent-mindedly brushing the sand from my trousers, I ran my fingers through my hair, not wanting to appear unkempt, especially in front of her. I sighed, I was growing up, and soon I will be too old for Narnia and her magical wonder. Was this how Peter and Susan felt? Before they were told by Aslan that they were never to return? Did they feel old beyond their time, burdened by the weighty yet glorious memories and knowledge of Narnia? A home they loved but no one else knew of? I think now, I understand, at least a little, why Su has distanced herself so; from us and the memory of Narnia. Had I not such immense faith in Aslan that things _will _turn out all right, I did not doubt that perhaps, I would have gone down the same path as she.

I tensed, hearing some scuffling behind me. Whirling around, I pulled my dagger, Kasta out and in one swift moment, held it at the intruder's throat. Upon seeing the intruder however, I raised an eyebrow and sheathed my dagger once more, for it was the Star who was before me. Rubbing her sore throat (I couldn't help but feel a little wicked glee at the tiny trickle of blood that flew down from the barely there scare Kasta gave her), she attempted to regain some composure. 'My apologies, Your Majesty. I did not intend to startle you.'

Soft-hearted as I was, I felt a little guilty. She hadn't done anything wrong. My feelings towards Caspian were unknown to her and I really couldn't blame her for reducing Caspian to a hormonal, 16 year old boy; he certainly wasn't acting like a 23 year old, staring like a kicked puppy at her every movement. I gave her a little nod, 'All is forgiven noble Star, though I too must beg for your forgiveness; I knew not it was you who stood at my back.'

Silent, she stared at me, truly looking at me for the first time. I smiled wryly, what a sight I must be. 'I am quite certain, my Lady, that my wind-swept hair and thoroughly soaked apparel must startle you. Come now, there is no need to speak coyly of how you must be greatly offended at how wild this Queen appears.' She blushed gently as I looked on amused; knowing that I had guessed correctly what was on her mind. I must give her some credit though, for she managed to work up the courage to agree with my statement. 'I must admit, Your Highness, that I did not expect you to be so..'

Having heard this same sentence nearly my entire reign, I rolled several words smoothly off my tongue, almost mockingly. 'Childish? Barbaric? Outlandish? Un-Queenly? Surely one of these words fits your description of me.' She looked startled. 'No! For certain, Your Highness, never!'

I was intrigued. 'Then pray tell, how _would_ you describe me?'

Tilting her head, she answered slowly, as if testing the words she spoke. 'If I were to describe you Your Highness, I would say that you are brave. And wild, yes, but wild in an entirely Narnian and magnificent way. You seem merely a child, and yet your words belie an entity far older than I. You are an enigma, Queen Lucy, and Narnia is honoured to have you as her Queen.'

Strangely touched by her kind and true words, I turned away to face the sea, not knowing what to speak of. She didn't leave; instead she stayed with me, staring out into the night, and for all anyone knew we could have been two statues silently standing guard at the entryway to the island. Her blue glow was warm and comforting and conjured images of being wrapped in a warm hug with love and joy. I almost felt comfortable with her.

I broke the silence. 'Do you love him?'

I was met with silence as she pondered this strange question. 'I do not know Queen; I do not know him better yet to have an answer to your question.'

_Oh, she's good. _Smiling, I shot yet another question at her. 'But should he choose you as royal consort, would you care for him? Would you love and protect him as his wife? Would you do it of your own free will or would you be doing it for duty?'

Glancing at her, I could see her struggle to find the right answer. I felt bad; these questions weren't fair on her. How could she know whether she was in love with someone she just met? But I _had _to know; I had to make sure that even if Caspian weren't with me, he would be happy.

Finally, she answered. 'I cannot claim to love him as greatly as you do, Queen Lucy, and I do not claim to match your love for him, even in the future. But I _will _say this: I care greatly for the young King and perhaps I will even grow to love him as a lover does. Should he choose me as his wife, I will greatly rejoice for he is a good and noble man, and I swear to you, I _will _love him with all my heart and strive to bring him cheer and joy as you do now.'

A lonely, single tear gently slid down from my eye as it wet my cheek. She will be good for him, I knew. And maybe, that's enough for me.

Turning to face her, I nodded gravely. 'Thank you, my Lady. My heart warms to know that he will find much comfort in you in years to come, and that he will not want for love with you by his side.' Stealing one last glance at my Eastern Sea, I started the slow journey back to the stone table where no doubt, the feast still roars on.

Halfway back, I stopped. 'Liliandil.' She stood still at the shore and curiously turned her head towards me, hearing for the first time, her name from my lips. 'Queen Lucy?' Shutting my eyes at the tears brimming at the surface, I whispered softly, so softly that I knew not whether she heard it. 'Thank you. Love him; hold him dear, for you are fortunate indeed to be gifted with his love.'

She gave no reply and I continued to walk back. But I could have sworn, that in that moment, Aslan stood before me and smiled lovingly at me before He disappeared. Grinning, I raced back to rejoin the others. Already, I saw Edmund running to the mouth of the cave as he yelled and waved frantically at me; both he and Caspian came barreling to enfold me in relieved hugs.

I have made the right choice, and I am content.


End file.
